Rising
by EarthScraper
Summary: Rythe is an elf with a dark past, and an equally dark future. The denizens of Tamriel either have forgotten him, or fear him. He believes he has no place in the world. But when a little, unassuming girl enters his life,could she guide him towards the light,and ultimately, redemption?
1. The Prodigy

Her world was burning. The huts and stonework consumed the stone work around her. Burning flesh filled her nostrils, suffocating her. Dizziness of a premature sleep blurred her vision, but still she ran, ran towards the house, towards her family, amidst the mass of confusion and terror of her own mind.

'Mother!' the girl screamed, her weak body barely scaling the only remaining set of stairs that was useable, and swatted the door open with all her might. 'Mother! Father!' she screamed again, hoping to hear those beloved words in her ears again.

_No! Please, Mara, please! _She begged silently as she clambered up the house. The girl turned down the hallway, and halted when the inferno threatened her with its fierce wrath. A talon of flame clawed at her hair as she turned quickly the other way.

'MOTHER!' the girl screamed again, clawing at the wooden walls in terror, sadness and desperation all rolled into one emotion. Tears streamed down her face, but evaporated into salty steam as they left her face. Smoke held its grip around her throat, never letting go, and all the girl could do was choke on it as she cried and cried.

'Father…' she croaked weakly in another coughing fit. Voices of another plane whispered into her ears. She could not understand them, but _did _at the same time. The girl clawed at her scalp, gritting her teeth in mirth and fear.

_No, shut up! I'm not going to die! _She assured the voices, whether or not they cared. Clawing through the house, she could see what remained of the door ahead. _I'm not going to die. I am not going to die. I am not going to die. _She repeated in her broken mind, clawing her way towards the cold air in front of her. She crawled and crawled towards the door. The world was on fire. The air was shrouded in smoky death. The wood was hot to touch under her bleeding fingers. She was a hair's breadth away from the door-

-and she felt her ribs crack under the weight of a plank of wood upon her. She screamed a dreadful scream, and feebly tried to push the plank from upon her.

_No! I am not going to die!_

The plank was burning through her night clothes, searing her skin.

'I am not going to _**DIE!' **_ She screamed again as a sudden burst of strength filled her arms, and lifted the plank so she could free her legs, and ultimately her life. She leapt at the doorway, and her light frame barely opened the door, and she tumbled into the cold, crisp snow of Skyrim. She would have thanked the gods, but then remembered they could not stop the tragedy that was set before her teary eyes. She sniffled and whimpered quietly as the rest of the fire raged into the night, before the blistering wind simmered and eventually overpowered the heat, leaving nothing but the girl, the putrid stink, and the cold wind that blew through her hair and clothes.

'Mother…? Father…?' She whimpered, praying that her refuge would crawl out of the smouldering rubble and wood. When no figure emerged, not even her beloved hound, she wept. She watched her tears fall to the snow, twinkling in the night sky. The young girl stumbled to the lone tree stump that sat on the other side of the road, and dug feebly into the snow, only to fish out a small chest.

Opening the chest, she retrieved an assortment of robes, spare rations of meat and fruit, and a small note, which she tucked into the pouch that came with the robes. The girl placed the chest back into the hold, and wrapped the robes tightly as she waited for someone, _anyone, _to emerge from the house or road.

She sat there, praying silently, tears streaming down her face, late into the night.

And into the early hours of the morning.


	2. The Reaper

The snow caked road was spread out before him in a snake like fashion, one that slithered over the hills, and into the dusk sky. The man sighed coldly, and loosened his cloak, letting the cold air wrap around his body, embracing him, akin to how his Mother embraced him when they reunited in the iron tomb. The snow fell gently onto his hood and cloak, caking the pitch black leather in a thin, white sheet of ice. The hooded man began his walk up the trail, his sharp, orange eyes flickering through the trees, searching, hunting. His long, slender sword clicked with every step, but in this weather, it was barely a whisper. Not a single sign of life emerged from within the forest of ice, but he didn't mind. Less noise, better walk.

The previous day was far from eventful. The townsfolk were as suspicious as seers and mystics, and yet they could not tell if a vampire was staring right in front of them. They were far too busy complaining about their new wizard. Originally, he had heard rumours about a wizard who could cure vampirism, but then it dawned upon him that it would be pointless. Who would want to gain this power just to throw it all away? He had become so accustomed to the sun, that it no longer bothered him.

'The Vampire is Eternal.' A stupid and short-sighted 'superior' once told him. And yet, in the end, it was his own seed that was his downfall. The hooded man was just simply the reaper.

Reaper. The man smiled as he recalled that name he received, two-hundred years ago, in the blood soaked arena. The roars and cheers for his name paled in comparison for all the bloodlust that was satisfied, for the sounds of steel ripping and tearing through flesh and bone was ecstasy to his ears.

But that arena was just the beginning. It was not long before the beast arose once more, and when he killed that weak, feeble man on his own bed, under the very nose of the inn-keeper, he had truly found a place he could call home.

It was there, his life stopped.

The night embraced him, and with it, immortality. He had loved it so. The people had already called him a curse upon the world. Why not build on that fate, and make them _fear _you in return?

The hooded man wistfully remembered the family he once had. He just simply did not learn, that whoever got close to him, would _burn and suffer_.

_Why do the gods torment me so?_ The man thought scornfully as he gazed at the moons. Only Sithis seemed to acknowledge him, but even then, he never spoke, never appeared. Only through the man's Matron.

In any case, the man continued up the path, delved into his blood soaked past. The night he and Jakben fought upon the roof tops of the Imperial Plaza made the man realize he wasn't normal, even by vampire standards. He laughed where others would cry, he disagreed when others would agree, he remained silent when they demanded and answer.

And the beast inside would claw at his mind, tempting and trying to free itself from its shackles of sanity and control, more than once he was tempted to give in and become what everyone feared.

'What is better, to be born good? Or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?' a wise and old friend told the hooded figure some time ago, when Skyrim was in turmoil. When the god of the end would come and devour it.

That question rung in the hooded man's head for quite some time. Is there truly redemption for someone like him? Was there a river deep enough to wash all the blood away from his hands?

He doubted it. The only way to ever keep the beast contained was to push all those he grew close away. The New Brotherhood, the Volkihar clan…Her especially.

Shaking his heads of those thoughts, he was adamant never to hurt those he cared about ever again.

And so, The Reaper walked on-ward, through the ice and snow, and into the night.


	3. Close Encounter With The Annoying Kind

It was early Evening Star in Skyrim, the coldest, snowiest time of the year. It was this time when the sun would shine weakly upon Nirn, when the light of Akatosh was pale and had a smaller influence. It was when the creations of Kyne would withdraw and seek shelter from the blistering cold. Only the hardy or desperate animal would venture out. The lakes and rivers were completely frozen over, and the air all around was soft and quiet. The only sound that could be heard were the small, stifled sobs of a puffy eyed Nord girl, who trudged through the snow with slow, reluctant steps.

If anyone were to look upon her, they would surely laugh. Oversized mage robes covered her from head to toe, with a hood covering her soft, chestnut hair that hung from her hood, and blew in the cold wind. The girl herself was nothing much to look at, mainly plain features with rather bright, big blue eyes, thin lips and a soft nose made her nothing special. She gazed up sorrowfully at two crows cawing loudly as they huddled around in their nest. The girl drooped her head, and gave a shaky sigh as she continued through the frozen forest.

'I'm all alone…' she sighed wistfully. Just days before, she had awoken, only to find her family home being burned to the ground. She waited for days to see if anyone would emerge from within the ashes. But she is young, and still cannot fully grasp the concept of death. Eating on some rations she had saved from before, the girl tried to remember the little experience she had when out in the wilderness.

Gazing around she noted how the sticks were too spindly, and of course with this type of weather, no fruit or animals would emerge, so food would be sparse. The girl groaned in frustration, and stamped her feet.

'Ah, it's pointless!' she cried out. 'I can't do anything right!'

The forest shook slightly with the scream that echoed through the iced over woodland. She planted herself onto the snow, and hugged her knees, seemingly giving up. The notion of walking all the way to Winterhold sat in her social-starved mind.

A low rumble followed by a groan came from within the dense forest.

'Hello?' The girl asked. 'Is…someone there?' She stood up, a sense of relief washed over her. Her prayers where finally answered apparently. 'Please, I'm over here.'

A large figure rose from the snow, and turned to look at her with two, dark eyes.

'I'm lost, and hungry, and cold.' She explained. 'Could you please help me?'

The figure was silent.

'Um…hello?' the girl said, backing away slightly at the figures stares. A small mound of snow fell onto the ground.

And a third eye blinked at her.

**-0-0-0-**

The silence was a blessing to the hooded man. Not a single thing bothered him as he walked the snow covered path towards nowhere. Wandering was the best occupation he had ever thought of. Only the occasional idiot crossed his path, but even then he ignored them, or killed them if he was in that certain mood. Nevertheless today was a good day for him. Cold, quiet and on his own, the best kind of day.

His mercenary work was small. In fact, he rarely did any. He had one to many songs sung about him already, he didn't need anymore. It's the reason he hated inns. That, and the patron's inability to properly clean a bed, one that did not stink of another man's urine.

The man shuddered at the thought of sleeping in another inn again, it may have been in Cyrodiil, but that was beside the point. The wilderness was normally quieter anyway, the inns were full of drunks and idiots who think that if it moves, he can make love to it, though the fool once who proposed to the broom was mildly amusing.

In fact, the wilderness was far better than towns and cities in general. Less noise, less petty squabbles and less political idiots who thought they were better than the other. Ulfric and Tullius, in the man's point-of-view, were two little children who let a game of territory war get a little heated, and in the end, the parent won, in this case the Thalmor.

_Yes,_ the man thought _that was _exactly _what those uppity bastards wanted. _The Thalmor were always the greater evil in the end. They destroy everything they saw fit. Cyrodiil, Skyrim, the Cheydinhal Sanctuary…

The guilt wracked the man. His own family, his own mother was nearly killed and exterminated by those who served the Thalmor. He had shunned his duty, the cords that bound him to servitude with the mother, but it was not him. His life was not a servant's, but a master's. When they finally reunited in the iron tomb, he accepted his role, albeit not directly. Every so often, he passes a letter to the Family, and then, they are to do the Mother's will.

He simply wished she would choose someone more devoted.

The man's beloved silence was cut short by somebody who was clumsily tumbling down the snow bank.

_What in Oblivion are you doing?  
_

**-0-0-0-**

The girl clutched her side in pain as it sent a sharp feeling all across her hip.

'Ohhh…' she groaned as she rubbed her hip, then with a cry, she remembered what she was running from. The girl crawled up and started to run while making sure the big, hairy _thing _wasn't following her.

Then the aforementioned _thing _emerged from the trees, and let out a blood curling roar, then charged her again.

_Pleasedon'thurtme Pleasedon'thurtme Pleasedon'thurt-_

The girl crashed to the ground again, her rump getting bruised again.

'Ow…' she groaned, and peered up at whatever she hit. She recoiled in fear as she gazed upon a man cloaked completely in black, when she gazed at his face, all that was there was a white skull, and two glaring, angry orange eyes.

The girl turned quickly around, and saw the lumbering hairy ape-like thing charging at the a scream, the girl shut her eyes, covered her ears and prayed one of the two would kill her and get it over with.

In the darkness, the only thing she felt was the cold air on her face and uncovered hands, and the splatter of something warm upon her cheek.

Through the cracks of light that her eyes gave when she opened them, she turned a sickly pale colour when she saw the blood drenched floor, and the ape head that was staring blankly at her.

Gazing up, her eyes fell upon the strangest sword she had ever seen. It was as red as blood, single edged, thin, and sharpened to a maddening point that it seemed to cut the very _air_ itself.

The peculiar, ominous blade made a rather satisfying sound as it slid back into its sheath.

'Wow…' The girl let out involuntarily as she looked at her saviour. 'You killed that thing like it was parchment.'

The hooded figure let out an irritated grunt. 'And you run like a chicken, literally.' The man answered in a deep, and rather frightening voice, yet the girl could pick up a hint of amusement from it.

'Well, that ape thing was going to eat me!' The girl retorted, forgetting who she was arguing with, but quickly bit her tongue when the man turned to face her.

'Trolls.' The hooded man corrected her. 'They are called Trolls.'

The girl gave a sigh of relief when she realized that the 'skull' was only a painting on the man's face, and more importantly, that he was friendly.

If a little grumpy.

'Well, thank you…' the girl said. 'I mean it.'

The hooded man gave another grunt before walking away. 'If you weren't weak, you wouldn't have to thank me.'

The girl felt a tinge of hurt when he said that, but also realized he was right. She was weak, and knew it well.

'Could, could you help me?' she asked, slightly feeling embarrassed. 'I need to get to Winterhold, and, I'm lost…' she said as she fought back a couple of tears.

'No.' The man said bluntly while carrying on. He was adamant to ignore her, but still stopped when a soft sobbing had begun behind him. Little tears streaked down her face, and froze when they hit the cold stone path. The man snorted. 'Are you crying?'

The girl nodded.

'Seriously?'

The girl nodded again.

'By Sithis…' the man groaned.

'Please!' The girl begged through a hiccup of tears, 'I'll-I'll pay! Promise!'A long silence was drawn between the two. The man sighed and stared at her, trying to figure her out, then sighed again before, reluctantly, agreeing.

'Fine, I suppose, since Winterhold is only a day walk from here.' The man groaned quietly. The girl's eyes beamed at him with a bright blue.

'Oh, thank you! Thank you!' The girl cheered as she brushed away the few stray tears on her cheeks.

'On one condition.' The man said quickly.

'Anything! Anything!' The girl said as she ran closer to him.

'No talking.'

The girl blinked at him, before nodding her head, and following his lead. 'Oh, um, I hope you don't mind me asking, what's your name?'It took a few seconds for her to get an answer.

'Rythe.'

It took her even longer for her to realise he wasn't going to relay the question.'Oh, that's a nice name. I'm Tess.'

**-0-0-0-**

Rythe wasn't sure what he was thinking. One minute he was walking on his own, and the next, this little, irritating girl shows up, and now, he is escorting her to Winterhold, no doubt for the College.

He placed his finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose. How did a few little tears win him over, when he has killed or ignored others without so much a thought? He wasn't too sure, maybe It was the pay, maybe it was that face that despite how much he likes the silence, he felt somewhat lonely.

_I'm an Assassin, I'm supposed to be alone. _He thought, but still couldn't fathom why he has decided to put up with this little girl who calls herself 'Tess'.

Coming to a set of crossroads, Rythe brushed of the snow on the wooden signs, and read them. Thankfully, judging by the type of wood, Winterhold was not too far from a sigh of relief, Rythe pulled his cloak closer to him, and looked back at his charge, who flinched a little when she saw his face, but otherwise, looked fairly ready to go.

How hard could it be to look out for this little girl?


	4. Storm

'Stupid short legs…' Tess cursed while stumbling over in the snow again. It was the third time she had done so, thanks to her oversized robes and rather stumpy legs. You wouldn't think this girl was a Nord from the first glance.

'Rythe, I'm hungry.' Tess said with a moan, much to the annoyance of her escort.

'Then eat.' Rythe answered bluntly.

'Idiot!' Tess retorted. 'I would have done that ages ago if I _had _food!'

'Then, do us all a favour, and starve quietly.' Rythe said through clenched teeth.

'Don't you have anything? Not even an apple?' Tess asked in vain.

'No.' Rythe snapped shortly.

Tess sighed and held her rumbling stomach in some vain attempt to stop the empty feeling in her gut.

'Meany…' Tess whispered to herself, trying to distract herself with something of interest, although the land around her was all the same; white, cold and only the rebellious, spindly tree stuck up from the ground.

Perhaps the only distinction in her eyes, was the fact the snow had somewhat of a strange green tinge.

_Snow is never green…_

Tess was about to ask Rythe, but remembered how much of a _jerk _he was when it came to anything. Besides, Rythe would just say shut up or something along those lines.

_No, not gonna ask…_

Tess looked at the snow again, making sure that her eyes were not playing some sort of trick, but was adamant that the snow _was _slightly green. Tess shook her head.

_Not gonna ask…_

Peering around, Tess tried to find a reason for why the snow was like this. Eventually, with a roll of her eyes and I sigh, Tess turned to her 'escort'

'Um, Rythe?'

**-0-0-0-**

Rythe was ready to snap. This little girl was hell-bent on making conversation, and there was not a single doubt in his mind that this next question was more complaint then question.

'What? What could you possibly want now?' Rythe wondered through gritted teeth, scraping them so hard that they were ready to snap.

'Um, why is the snow a funny green?' The girl asked.

_Great, so not only is she annoying as hell, she is also amazingly stupid._

'It's probably the grass underneath it or something.' Rythe answered hoping the sweet silence would return to him. Little, clumsy footsteps behind him suddenly turned up in beat, and before he knew it, the girl was right in front of him, with a clump of snow in her hand.

'Does this look like grass, to you?' The girl pointed out, panting from exhaustion of the non-existent rest they have had.

Rythe would have most likely have bit back, or swatted the snow out of her hand, but did notice that the snow was, in fact, slightly green.

An idea then sprung in Rythe's mind, turning his head around, his eyes, danced around the sky, and when he saw a dark, and _very _big cloud in the distance, heading towards them, he knew _exactly _what it was.

_Ice storm._

The half melted clump of snow in the girls hand fell to the floor behind him, followed by the most annoying _shrieking _sound Rythe had ever heard.

'Ice storm!?' The girl shrieked. 'Wh-What are we going to do!?'

Rythe tried, _tried, _to ignore the continuous, high-pitched slur coming from the girl's mouth_. _He pictured her purple-faced from strangulation, or completely silent from being smothered from a pillow.

'Hey!' He finally snapped, and the girl fell immediately silent. 'Do you want to die?'

The little idiot shook her head.

'Then _shut the hell up_, and start looking for a cave or something.' Rythe snapped again. The girl look slightly shaken from his shout, and nodded her head before starting a search.

_Good, fear will keep her quiet._

Rythe also joined the search, albeit not as frantically as the girl. Although, a sudden thought just entered his mind. If she didn't know what an ice storm was, how could she have known it _was _and ice storm? Rythe didn't remember explicitly speaking out loud when the thought came into his head.

Unless…

'Will this do?' The girl asked, snapping Rythe out of his thoughts. Coming to investigate, it would seem that the girl had a good eye. It was a fairly reasonably sized cave, with plenty of room to manoeuvre, and enough space to keep her one side of the cave, and he at the other.

'Yeah, this'll do.' Rythe agreed. Spinning on the spot, Rythe began his search for twigs, sticks and other resources on the ground to create a makeshift door. Unfortunately, the trees around would only provide many small, thin sticks, so to compensate, Rythe would have to make the cave size smaller, therefore decreasing the room for manoeuvring and comfort.

_And getting closer to the runt._

Why he was deciding to stay with girl was beyond him. More than once he had the thought of getting rid of her, _in many ways, _and do his own thing.

Shaking his head, seemingly disappointed with himself, he returned back to the cave, and the shivering, little rag of skin and bone in the corner, huddled around a rather neat and well-made camp fire.

'Hmph, so not completely useless then.'

The girl turned to him, with a rather silly, and toothy smile plastered across her face.

'Don't let it get to your head.' Rythe assured her, and felt a little tinge of happiness when he saw the girls face drop, and slumped sulkily onto the floor, arms hugging her knees.

Rythe shook his head, placed his belongings onto the floor, and got to work on the 'door'. Wrapping the thin, spindly sapling roots around each other, Rythe only managed to make a sort of skeleton door, and had to fill in the gaps using fire wood.

While he was working, he heard the repeated growl of the girl's stomach in the corner.

'There is a few legs of rabbit in my pack. Take two.' Rythe said with a sigh, and almost immediately, he could hear her little, eager hands rummaging around in his pack.

'Thank you.' She said half way through eating one of the legs.

Rythe shook his head, and sat facing away from her.

It was going to be a long night.

**-0-0-0-**

Tess sighed with relief as the last chunk of rabbit hit the abyss of her stomach, finally able to do something, although there was little she could do in this cave.

Instead she turned her gaze towards the ground, to the fire, and finally to Rythe, who was cleaning the odd, blood-red sword, that was lying flat across his lap.

Tess furrowed her bow when she look at it. She could have sworn she saw _blood _running through the blade, not on it, _through it._

Rythe wiped the blade in a cloth that was covered in a strange smelling oil that made Tess' nose curl. To his side, Tess noticed a large, serrated dagger that was black and red, and glowed slightly green, and even just _looking _at it made her tired.

Shaking her head from dizziness, Tess turned her attention to Rythe himself. Under his hood, she could see a pair of pointed ears, so she immediately recognized him as an elf. And know that his hands where uncovered, she noticed his dark, ash-grey skin.

_So he's a Dunmer then. THAT'S why he is so moody all the time._

Tess could finally understand why Rythe was a moody jerk with a short temper. Because he was born that way.

In any case, if anyone else where to merely glance upon him, you couldn't really tell what race he was. His face paint made him look terrifying to look at, and unlike other Dunmer, his eyes were an angry orange.

Tess was left rather confused. Dunmer, according to her knowledge, all had red eyes. So why does Rythe have orange?

Obviously not happy with her findings, Tess began to take note on how Rythe acted. He was fast, very fast in fact, when he moved. He didn't seem to be in a rush though. Maybe it was because she was slow.

She had also taking note since their first meeting on how _strong _Rythe was. Killing a Troll is one thing, but slicing it in two with ease, and pretending it was nothing, was another.

It was with that thought that Tess noticed a glint of gold in her eye. Tracing her eyes back to the source, she noticed a large, oval shaped ornate bottle, and like nearly everything else Rythe had in his possession, was blood red.

_A little fancy for a potion that heals people… _Tess thought while carefully picking it from the ground. Tess, using her 'amazing' ability of doing things quietly, carefully uncorked the bottle, and flinched when the cork came off with a louder than expected 'pop'. Thankfully, Rythe seemed to be too indulged in cleaning that sword of his. Flickering her eyes towards the contents, Tess saw a red liquid swirling around in it.

_What is it with this guy and red… _Tess thought to herself while sniffing the contents, but her brow furrowed when the scent touched her nostrils. She sniffed again. And again.

_Oh Gods. _She retched slightly after the last big whiff, and that was when she recognized it.

_Blood._

Panicking for her own safety, Tess quickly stuffed the vial back where it came from, and hugged her knees.

_Why does this freak have blood in a bottle!? _Tess thought to herself frantically. She felt sick, and her hands shook from fear.

What psychopath had she been tagging along with all along?

Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, in the light of the fire, Tess then saw something she would have never wanted to see, ever. Just showing beneath his top lip, Tess' stomach was ready to throw up the two rabbit legs from earlier.

Her stifled crying from underneath her hood had still managed to catch the attention of her 'escort'.

'What are you crying about now?' He said shortly, brow furrowed.

It took a few tries for her to respond. 'Please, please don't hurt me.'

Rythe's brow furrowed even more, but then, Tess saw for the first time, he smiled.

And she didn't like it.

**-0-0-0-**

'Hmph, it would seem that you do harbour a degree of intelligence after all.' Rythe said, making no effort to his hide overgrown fangs.

Rythe looked at the little, whimpering girl in the corner, who had turned as pale as the snow.

Shaking his head, Rythe did his best to try and decipher the sudden rush of words that was spilling out of the girl's mouth.

'Ever heard of the saying, 'Curiosity killed the Khajiit?'' Rythe asked. The girl nodded fervently, still shaking with terror.

'Well, lucky for you, you aren't a Khajiit, so no, I won't hurt you.' Rythe assured the girl, but still she shook from fear.

Rythe sighed heavily. 'Go to sleep.'

'That's what you want me do.' The girl retorted, bringing her robes closer to her neck.

Rythe closed his eyes and scratched the bridge of his nose. 'Look at it this way, would you rather be in here, warm and dry, or out there.' he pointed, and only then did Tess notice the howling wind outside, and the 'door' was practically frozen from the blistering cold.

'Either way, I don't care what you do, just do it quietly.' Rythe finished before returning to his blades.

It took a while, but eventually, he heard the runt curl in the corner, and drift off into a sleep.

Rythe sighed with relief, and he sat back against the cave wall, and he also closed his eyes, and slowly drifted off into a dreamless sleep.


	5. Pass

Tess found opening her eyes extremely difficult, when they got half-way, a great weight upon her eyes forced them back down, and the darkness beckoned her back to sleep.

Tess couldn't argue, she did _love _her sleep. She curled up tighter in her ball of warmth, and pulled her robes closer to her body. She tried to sleep again, but something wasn't right, something was off.

Peeling her eyelids open, she pressed her lips together, and found out that her 'lips' felt leathery and false. Curious, Tess licked them, and she gagged violently as she tasted old leather.

Bolting up, Tess squirmed and clawed at the strip of leather around her mouth, and felt relieved as it came loose immediately.

'Awake. Good.' A cold, yet familiar voice said next to her.

Tess felt a little scared looking at Rythe as he sat there, arms and legs crossed. The veil of shadow that his black hood casted covered his eyes, but Tess was adamant he was looking at her. Her small fear grew a little as she raised the slobbery, ragged strip of leather.

'Even in your sleep, you don't seem the _shut up_.' Rythe answered her question. Tess felt a little guilty, it seemed that no matter what she would do, awake or asleep, Rythe would get irritated.

Tess flinched as he whipped his hand in front of her, holding a single rabbit leg.

'Eat.' Rythe commanded monotonously.

Slowly, and cautiously, she reached out her hand, and took the rabbit leg with her delicate fingers, and tried so _very _hard to chew quietly.

She ate in silence, and tried to not let her gaze fall from Rythe, who was staring blankly into the white light at the end of the cave. Quietly, and slowly, she placed her free hand on her neck, checking for tiny, little pin-pricks.

'Relax.'

Tess jumped at the sound of his voice, which echoed slightly in the little space they had.

'If I had bit you, you'd also be dead.' He said coldly.

Tess felt her brow furrow. 'Um, I thought I would, you know, become a zombie or something.'

Rythe shuffled on the spot slightly. 'I always kill my prey after I'm done. Thralls irritate me. Don't stop moaning, and next to useless in fight.'

Tess nodded, but felt a cold shiver down her spine as she heard his deep, soft laughing rumbling from underneath his hood. 'I suppose in that sense, you are _already _like one.'

The young Nord girl felt a jab of hurt strike her as she continued to eat, in silence no less. She didn't eat for long, and soon, she was chewing on the last scrapings of fat and gristle.

'Done.' She sighed and threw the little bone that scrabbled across the cold stone.

Rythe grunted an affirmative, and shuffled towards the bright, cold exit, and Tess saw the black shadow of a man disappear over the mound of snow and ice that sat at the foot of the cavern.

**-0-0-0-**

The beautiful, fresh cold air wafted up into Rythe's nose, and sighed quietly, and happily as the sun was blocked out by the clouds.

And that was when he remembered the little runt that was following him.

'Are you coming or not?' Rythe said impatiently.

The girl grunted a 'yes' and crawled her way up the icy mound.

As amusing as it was to watch her stumpy limbs try to claw up the mound, Rythe sighed, and grasped the girl's hood, and placed her onto the ground messily.

'Thanks.' She said bluntly as she blew a strand of hair out of her face. Rythe took little notice, and surveyed the battered and frozen surroundings. The ice storm had turned the tree branches into viable weapons. Massive, jagged icicles hung from each branch, all pointed towards the east. The mounds of snow that covered the area around them was more ice then snow, and crunched loudly with each step they took.

'Um, this way?' The girl asked while pointed towards said way, and for once Rythe agreed with her, and continued on their way.

Rythe enjoyed the morning. It was cold, crisp, and surprisingly, quiet. More than once Rythe looked over his shoulder to see if she hadn't wandered off, but saw her instead struggling to keep up while trying very hard, judging by her sulking posture and expression, to not _complain._

The something hit Rythe. It was a feeling he wasn't familiar with, one that he thought had disappeared long ago.

Sympathy.

_Why? _Rythe pondered. He wasn't too sure, but despite their many, _many _differences, he could see himself when he looked at her.

_But what can I see? A lost childhood? A struggle to just survive, let alone live? _Rythe shook his head. Her sob story of her losing her family days before wasn't going to win him over.

Gritting his teeth, and unable to stop feeling this way, he halted abruptly, and turned to face her.

'Stop.' He said while he approached her, smiling at her eyes widening in quiet fear.

'I, I haven't done anything!' The runt protested. Rythe breathed a little laugh while crouching on one knee, and reached for his small pack.

'Roll your sleeves up.' He asked her. She did, albeit hesitantly, and not taking her perplexed gaze of him.

'Are you…alright?' She asked. Rythe ignored her, unable to answer the question for himself, and continued to tie her sleeves with spare strips of leather used for quick fixes.

Finally, he stood back up, tugging at her sleeves. 'Hm, that'll do.' He announced. The girl shifted slightly, seemingly content that here oversized robes now sort of fitted.

'Thank you?' she said, flustered at Rythe's actions. Rythe said nothing, only beckoning her to continue their walk.

_Perhaps I'm not feeling well_. Rythe thought as he sighed again.

**-0-0-0-**

Tess was having difficulty trying to figure Rythe out.

While he came across as grouchy and moody, he was still, in some form, looking out for her. But for him to actually turn and literally announce that he was about to help her, was something different.

_So, he is alright, I suppose. _Tess thought to herself. Now able to manoeuvre far more easily, she sped up to try and catch up with Rythe, and thanks to his assistance, was able to walk side by side with him.

'So, um…do you wander Skyrim a lot?' she asked, trying to take advantage of his rather good mood. The Dunmer was silent for a few seconds, before letting out yet _another _sigh of his, something he seemed to do a lot, Tess had noticed.

'Uh-huh.' Was all the Dunmer breathed out.

A few more seconds of silence. 'Oh, anything else you do?' Tess asked, hoping for a bit more than a grunt in answer.

'No, just wander…' Rythe answered, though Tess was no master, she could picked up on the lie, and ceased asking the questions, and let out a sigh herself.

The walk afterwards was slow and quiet, and Tess _hated_ the quiet. But then, Rythe loved it.

_Heh, the complete opposite of me in _every _way. _She thought. Her gut flipped with fright as she saw the gaping jaws of the mountain pass, threatening so swallow her whole. She wondered what would have happened if she was on her own, no doubt eaten by trolls, or kidnapped by bandits, or worse…

_But I'm not alone. Even if he is grumpy. _Tess thought as she gazed up at her escort. She was convinced that the pass _itself_ was scared of Rythe. He stared down the pass, and continued through it, leaving Tess behind him, clutching her robes tightly in hesitation.

'Just keep an eye out for rock slides, and you'll be fine.' She heard Rythe speak up, who had stopped for her to catch up. Tess could feel a small smile creep onto her lips, before nodding, and following his lead.

Still, Tess couldn't help but feel a sense of dread as the wind howled through the jagged rocks, making a sound not unlike screaming. And to make matters worse, the deeper they walked, the thicker he fog grew, until Tess found it difficult to even see her hand in front of her face, let alone Rythe, who even with wearing all black, was becoming a hazy shadow in the white mist.

'Rythe, wait!' Tess shouted, now sprinting towards said elf, who tilted his head down, no doubt in annoyance, before turning around. 'S-Sorry.' She panted. 'I don't like this fog. I've heard stories, of spirits of the dead stealing people away, and other things…'

Rythe rolled his eyes, but stopped mid-roll, and a look of suspicion was then paved across his face, and his orange eyes dulled as he squinted.

'Um, Rythe?' Tess asked as she joined in with his side-to-side search. Rythe remained silent. Tess groaned a little in annoyance.

But that turned immediately into a quiet whimper as his eyes snapped to her, eyes returned to their bright orange.

And charged.

* * *

**A.N.**

**Sorry for the boring chapter. Next one will be more action packed.**

**Massive thank you to the current 10 followers and the 4 reviewers for taking interest. Love ya!**

**Don't let it get to your head. XD**


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